So, Master, what was your total?
Not now, Ahsoka.
Come on. Are you afraid you lost this time?
Fine. 55, that's my count. And you?
60. Looks like I won.
Yeah, but I called in the air strike. Tie!
You're impossible!
I'll never understand how you can simplify these battles into some kind of game.
Well, take care of yourself. I expect to see both of you back here by the time I've destroyed the main factory.
We shall do our best.
65, Skywalker.
I'm sorry?
My total. 65. So, what do I win?
[exchange glances with Obi-Wan before looking back at Mundi and bowing in respect] My everlasting respect, Master Mundi.
Oh.
That is a gift Anakin rarely bestows, I assure you.
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